ezhiliparekh:
“My parents are witches too.” Ezhili replied, “As you can can probably sense it wasn’t something that was passed down to me. They are part of the Effendi.” They had always told Ezhili that she was part of the Effendi too, but she knew that wasn’t true. She might have been privy to the existence of supernatural, but that was about as far as the courtesy was extended.
Ezhili’s eyes flickered over the other woman’s face. She herself was the opposite, in her limited free time often choosing to fill her evenings with noise and mindless chatter, or the bright lights of a nightclub rather than be left in the quiet. “What sort of business are you in?”
.
Oh… fuck. She could tell her eyes widened just a little, her expression froze just a beat too long, but she quickly tried to force herself into something considered normal and not-panicy. She’d suspected the woman was witchborn, given some of the things she’d said, but Effendi witches… fuck. Her name hadn’t run any alarm bells, which was good, but this was playing with fire.
Another Effendi outcast, but this one still with favorable opinions. It figured she’d get herself into this position the moment she tried to actually be social at one of these parties.
“It is strange, how magic sometimes picks those with none in their blood, and passes over some that do,” she said. “But a witch is more than their magic; we are beings of faith and knowledge, of curiosity and ambition. You may not have the magic, but I have been told I am a good judgement of character, and I think you have inherited more than you think you have.” She would have been a good witch, Lillian mused. Kind, curious, driven. She could have done much.
“It’s a bookstore, to those who do not know our world. But I sell items for witches, and am a rather well-known diviner and potionmaker,” she answered, figuring the chances of it being over the moment she mentioned the name were high.
Ezhili didn’t miss the way the other woman’s eyes widened but it made her curious as to why. “Is there something wrong?” She asked, but Ezhili only ended up humming at the other woman’s words. “You sound like my mother…” She told her, without much belief in her voice. Her parents had always tried to convince her that it didn’t make her any less their daughter, but Ezhili had never quite believed it. “I appreciate the sentiment. Perhaps there’s something else in the cards for me that I’m not seeing.” Of course you wouldn’t see it, you’re not a witch, Ezhili thought somewhat bitterly to herself. She was sure if her thoughts were outward the other woman might have reconsidered her evaluation of her. “What’s you favourite kind of potion to make?” Ezhili asked as she decided to move away from the subject.
